The Exiles
by penlost
Summary: Eragon and Arya meets a group of mercenaries, calling themselves the exiles, who assault them. As they are taken to their leader, Eragon discovers that this man could make or break  the fate of Alagaesia.
1. Chapter 1

The Exiles:

I don't own the Inheritance trilogy, this is merely my version of the events of Empire, with an OC Chapter I: The Battle of Belatona.

HELLO My first story, (kind of newb :)

Three Months after The Battle of the Burning Plains...

Eragon stared at the makeshift army that the Belatonians had assembled. Out of the 300,000 or so male inhabitants of the city, only 10,000 had volunteered to fight.

_This is pitiful. I cannot fight them. It would be wanton slaughter._

_I agree, replied Saphira's mental voice._

_I'll send an emissary to request their surrender._

Eragon had a man called up, and sent him on horse back with a flag of truce. When the man came back, he ran to Eragon at once.

"Commander, they refuse our terms. They say that they will slay the Rider of the Varden in the service of the King."

"I didn't expect less. Belatonians are known for their support of the king, which is why they are so close to Surda. Tell the men that I will give the order to charge personally."

_Saphira, do you wish me to fight on your back, or on foot?_

_You may pick, although you would inflict more physical damage on foot._

_All right then._

Eragon marched out in the front of the army. He rallied them in his strong, commanding voice.

"Men of the Varden! We are here to crush this pitiful royalist rabble. We are freedom fighters, and we will prevail! CHARGE!

With a thunderous cry, 15,000 men, Eragon included, 500 cavalry and 300 dwarves of Durgrimst Ingeitum charged, and a thousand archers loosened their arrows, dipped in flame, and the Belatonians quavered. Eragon at the front of the army, the body crashed against the Belatonians. The battle lasted little more than a couple of minutes. In that time, 1700 men were slain and the rest of the army routed. Several thousand were caught and captured, but the rest were slain in their retreat. Eragon felt a load of guilt being put on his soul. This was not what he wanted, although it was necessary. The city itself fell easily, as the Varden chased the Belatonians, they got into the city. It fell in a matter of hours.

A DAY LATER...

Eragon walked in the field of battle, where the bodies of 7000 men were piled. Mostly Belatonians, but several hundred Varden soldiers as well, and 3 dwarves given the burial of knurlan.

Nasuada, Arya, and their royal escort arrived in the city soon. Arya sought out Eragon, only to find him at the plains outside the city with Saphira, on the site of the battle.

"Eragon, I feel pain in your mind. What is it that bothers you?"

"It's nothing..."

"Eragon, I've traveled with you long enough to know if you're in pain-" she suddenly stopped, recognizing her own words from before.

"All right. I will tell you, but only if you promise not to tell Nasuada. She wouldn't be happy."

"I give my word" she said in the ancient language.

"It was the battle. I killed many people, but my men killed people with families, with children, with wives. I feel if I had wiped out an entire race of people. What scared me was their willingness to serve the King. What if the other cities, the more densely populated ones, are just the same? It will mean destruction for the Varden.

"You cannot give in now. This fear will drain you of your powers. Not when the Varden need you most. Not when... I... need you most."


	2. Chapter 2

The Exiles: Chapter II: Altair

More of the Plot is revealed!

Eragon was summoned by Nasuada into her quarters. As he arrived he bowed his head and said, "My Lady" with respect. After exchanging pleasantries, Nasuada said, "Eragon, the elves want you back at Ellesmera, to finish what's left of your training."

"What?" exclaimed Eragon in surprise. "I thought they would wait, especially with the war going on."

"They said your teacher, Oromis, was in bad health, and he personally asked the Queen to see you."

"Then I'll go at once."

"Hmmm. You must respect him a lot."

"He is almost like what Brom was. And it wouldn't be bad to be back in Ellesmera."

"You have my leave. When do you wish to go?"

"After telling Saphira."

"Oh, and Eragon?" Nasuada asked.

"Yes, My Lady?

"Arya already left."

"Barzul," muttered Eragon.

As he left Nasuada's chambers in the Belatonian governor's palace, he contacted Saphira.

_Saphira, we must go to-_

_Don't worry, Eragon. I heard. I'll meet you outside the city._

_And we must make haste. Arya has already left._

_Hmmmm... Yes, we should._

Eragon could tell she had a questioning attitude at him, especially after asking to catch up with Arya. His ears burned, and he could feel Saphira laughing quietly as she felt his ears burned over his mental connection.

_Just drop it._

An hour later, they were off. As the sped down to Aberon, a few hours passed, as they flew slowly, conserving their energy for the flight down the Beors towards the Elves. Eragon didn't talk much of the way. After the were on route through the Beors towards Du Weldenvarden, however, he became anxious not to pass over anything. He asked Saphira to fly low, so he could see Arya if she was here.

Suddenly, a small black speck appeared on the horizion. As he sped to it, he became certain it was Arya.

_Land in front of her. Don't argue, please, just do it._

_  
If you say so._

They person jumped back as the dragon landed in front of her and Eragon dismounted. He walked up to Arya and greeted her.

"Atra esterni ono thelduin," he said.

Arya smiled, and replied, "Mor'ranr lifa unin hjarta onr"

"You could have told me before you left."

"What?" she asked.

"Well, we could have gone together to Ellesmera."

"You were summoned?"

" Yes. Oromis ebrithil lays on his deathbed," he stated, almost without feeling.

Arya looked at him quizically. "You seem... detached."

"No, but if I let emotions overtake me, then it may deprive me of my magic. It was one of the things that Oromis taught me..." he trailed off.

Then he began to sob. Arya comforted him, and after the sobbing episode was over, he muttered, "I lost a teacher once, and I don't want to lose the second.

"I think we should make camp." said Arya, not responding.

"Aye. I'll gather the firewood. He pulled out his sword, and examined, truly, for the first time. It was a normal sword, made by humans, but it was silver and gold, and was as near as you could get to elven wrought swords. He chopped down small saplings and bushes and gathered wood, and piled them on the fire. As they both sat around the fire, with Saphira hunting, they talked about their homes, respectively. Arya had not much to say about Ellesmera, but Eragon filled her about all the adventures he and Roran had, pretending to be the Varden and the Empire, and having mock swordfights. As he talked he suddenly froze.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"I forgot to tell Roran that I left for Ellesmera. He's going to be out for my blood."

Arya just giggled and put her head on his shoulder. He just gaped at her.

"You're drunk," he accused.

"Not as much as you are."

"That's why I don't drink," said a voice behind them.

Eragon pulled his sword out of his sheath and raised it towards the strangers neck.

"Stop. I come in peace. I am not of the Empire, nor of this godforsaken world either. I come from the lands far east of the Varden."

"Unlikely," spat out Eragon.

_Saphira, I think you should come and see this._

"No, Eragon, he speaks the truth. This man is not even completely human. He has a trace of elf in him."

"Step out in the light, where I can see you."

The stranger complied. As he moved near the fire, he could tell that this man was truly not pure human or pure elf. His face was a brown, like a Surdans. Not dark, but not light either. He had a goatee, and small sideburns, but his hair was long and was the darkest black he had ever seen, blacker than Arya's. Yet his eyes were red.

As Saphira arrived, she growled at the stranger. He did not cower, yet he was not surpised. He seemed at calm, as one does relaxing in a comfortable chair.

"What's your name," asked Arya?

"Altair," he replied.

Sorry for the long chapter, please R&R


	3. Chapter 3

The Exiles Chapter III:

Capture

Eragon motioned for Altair to sit right next to him. Altair complied and sat down, wearily.

"What are you doing here?" asked Arya.

"I have been exiled from my land. My sect of warriors were peacekeepers, much like your dragon riders. However, a war broke out between the two nations of my land, Anarion. My sect, although serving one nation, was not a branch of government, and the ruling Council decided that our sect should not go to war. However, the more idealistic ones in the sect, including me, paid no heed to their ruling and went to war with the army. Very few came back. Hundreds of thousands of men had died in the war. Our order then suffered a schism. The more violent of our people broke off and created their own sect. They became involved with the army, and later seceded to the other nation. Then, we had a civil war in the sect. Although we won, it was a phyrric victory. The cost was very high in our men. Where once were tens of thousands, only several hundred remained. We scattered over the world, but regrouped later. The ones that had gone to war with the army in the first war were exiled. That consisted of five people, including my self."

"What was your sect called?" asked Eragon curiously.

"The Hashashim. The sect that broke off is called the Mishasha."

"Can you use magic?"

_I want to go hunting, Eragon._

_Do you think it's wise?_

_I don't sense any danger._

_Then go._

Altair just looked quizzically at them. Then, wordlessly, he set a nearby grove of trees on fire.

"It's not too hard. And I don't use the ancient language. It isn't the only way to harness the power of magic."

Suddenly, four robed people jumped out of the darkness and put knifes to their throats, except for Altair. He got up and issued an order, "Take them to the hideout."

A little while later, they arrived at a cave where they were taken to the side and released. Altair crouched next to them and gave them a mischievous smile.

"Sorry. I must know if you are friend or foe. Do you serve the Mishasha?"

"No," grunted Eragon.

"Do you serve Galbatorix?"

"No," muttered Arya.

"How do you know of Galbatorix?" asked Eragon suspiciously.

"We seek out the Varden. There is no point in an exile's life like this. I feel wasted." Altair's voice was almost at a yelling point. "I want to taste war. I want the blood of the Empire on my blade."

"I can take you to the Varden," said Arya quickly.

"No, Arya. We must get to Ellesmera-"

"The Elven City?" interjected Altair quickly.

"Yes."

"Take me there."

"And why would we do that?"

"I told you, I want to fight the Empire."

"Why?

_Saphira, where the hell are you?_

"I believe that if I help destroy the empire, that the Varden may help me destroy the Mishasha. I came to this land for help."

Arya dove into Altair's mind, only to find a steel wall.

_It's alright, I don't mean harm._

_I'm sorry._

The mental wall went down, and Arya confirmed his loyalties.

"He doesn't serve any power. I think we can trust him."

_Little one, where are you? You're not at the camp._

_Look for a cave nearby._

"Now that we are free to talk, I must get to Ellesmera on important business. Please, Altair, let us go, and we will take you to Ellesmera," said Eragon quickly.

"Actually, I have no intention of leaving until your dragon arrives."

"How do you know about Saphira?"

"I can feel presences with magic."

Suddenly, a noise erupted from the mouth of the cave, and the four other exiles pulled back. A huge sapphire dragon flew in and roared.

_It's alright, they can be trusted._

_Are you sure?_

_Yes._

"So, as I said, take me to Ellesmera. Then I can go to Surda, or wherever I must to meet the leader of the Varden."

"She's in Belatona."

"Well, in that case, Ellesmera is closer. I'll leave you three alone, and I need your answer in a minute."

Eragon looked at Arya. She wasn't staring at him, but instead at Altair. Her cheeks were flushed, and she looked embarrassed. Eragon felt his face grow red with jealousy.

"Arya. ARYA!"

She snapped her head at him, and murmured, "What do you think? Can we take him to Ellesmera?"

"I don't think we have much of a choice. Especially if he's as strong with magic as I think he is."

_I suppose we should play along for the time being, little one._

_Yes, I agree, Saphira._

Altair walked over to them. "Your answer?" he asked.

"I guess you're coming along," said Eragon.


	4. Chapter 4

The Exiles Chapter IV:

Affection

This is just a filler chapter, to establish character relationships.

Arya rode right next to Altair, with the other exiles in the back. Their names were Mishalka, a tall girl of eighteen, Artair, Altair's cousin, Visa, an elf of fifty, and Alkher, a shadowy man of thirty. Eragon was in the front, with Saphira. Arya stared at Altair with a strange gaze. She admired his features, the goatee, the handsome face, the lean body, the jet black cropped hair, and—

_Snap out of it Arya!_ She scolded herself._ This isn't the time._

_Never before have you ever been stunned by a human, or a half, I should say? _An alien voice in her mind said. It wasn't Altair, or Eragon. Instead it was Saphira.

_Saphira?! Is that you?_

_Yes. I sense that you like him, do you not?_

_I... erm... It's… nothing._

_Although I realize this is none of my business, I wouldn't suggest this affection. I do not think that he will return your affection. I sense that he will fall in love with another. I do know who, and I will not tell you._

_If you are doing this on behalf of Eragon-_

_I do this alone. Know this; Eragon is madly in love with you. And deep down, I think you are too. Altair's to be love is in Urubaen. _

_I do not love Eragon._

_Really? Evidence seems to be against you._

_Enough of this._

Arya broke her mental connection, but she was troubled underneath. She knew what Saphira had said was true. She was silent the rest of the trip, although Altair and Eragon talked the whole way through. They stopped to make camp, a few leagues from Du Weldenvarden.

"If we ride hard, I think we should make it to Ellesmera by night tomorrow," Eragon was saying to Altair. Then, he crawled off to his tent and lay in his sheets. Arya appeared right next to him, and sat.

"Are you alright, Eragon?" she asked.

"Yes. And you?"

"I am…"

She quickly knelt down and kissed him on the lips. At first, Eragon struggled with surprise, but melted into the kiss and returned it. Soon they were both kissing each other hard. A little tongue to tongue as well, and then they broke apart. Eragon and Arya smiled at each other, and kissed again.

OH, COME ON, YOU LOVE THIS FANFIC


	5. Chapter 5

The Exiles Chapter V

Return to Ellesmera

Eragon woke up with a yawn. Thinking about yesterday's events, he smiled.

_Saphira?_

_Hmmhmnn…._

Eragon realized she was probably sleeping. After stepping outside, it was only sunrise. He put on his light scale armor, and belted his sword. He noticed a figure robed in red and white, with a hood on, but Eragon could tell that it was Altair. He stepped towards him and placed a hand on his shoulder. Altair spun around and pointed his sharpened knife at him.

"Oh… I thought you were an enemy."

"You have keen senses," noted Eragon.

"A couple of years of exile will do that to you," chuckled Altair mirthlessly.

For the first time, Eragon noticed Altair's sword. It was a scimitar, somewhat like the swords used by Surdan soldiers. However, there were two distinctive features. One was that it ended in **two** points. The second was that it was colored black.

"A dragon rider's sword!" breathed Eragon sharply.

"Ah… you noticed. I was hoping you would. All Hashashim use swords that are made from elves. I have a spare, if you want one. I found it under a tree outside of a city in Du Weldenvarden. However, I didn't actually enter this city. I expected it to be guarded."

"What? You found a sword?"

"Near an elf city. I didn't enter." (In my story, the Menoa tree is just outside of Ellesmera.)

"That was Ellesmera."

"Forgive my foolishness. Let me get the sword for you," said Altair, smiling.

Altair dug around in his pack until he pulled out a sword that resembled Zar'roc in every aspect, but it was blue.

"I was also wondering if you could tell me the meaning of the runes on the sword?" asked Altair hopefully.

"Hmm…. Freohr esu eht rorht eca Zar'roc… Death is the brother of Misery…. Shurtugal Eragon esu renwo eca Freohr… Rider Eragon is the owner of Freohr…. Theb neha ecu olca… both new and old. Strange. This isn't written in the Ancient Language, or in the human or dwarven tounges. It's written in Draconic, the script of the Dragons. Yet some words are in the Ancient Language.

"Wait… you said yesterday that your old sword was called Zar'roc…"

Suddenly, the blue blade began to pulsate. A strange voice wafted out.

"_Eragon... Torix du Fyrn… Altair... Brisngrind... your names... King of War and Gates of Fire..." _the voice whispered quietly.

Eragon stared speechlessly at the sword. However, Altair muttered, "We know our names."

"We must swear in the ancient language not to mention each other's names to anyone, and to not use them against one another in a harmful way."

Without replying, Altair swore in the Ancient Language, and Eragon followed suit.

Suddenly, Eragon said, "Do you want to duel?"

"Why not?"

Eragon and Altair readied their swords with the proper spell. They circled each other for a moment, until Eragon jumped at Altair. Altair blocked, sidestepped, and attempted a strike at Eragon's back, but Eragon blocked by placing his sword behind his back at where it guarded it. He pushed and Altair fell backwards a few steps, but readied himself again. He attempted a stab at Eragon's front, and he parried…

And so went on the duel. They dueled until all of the Exiles, Saphira, and Arya had woken up and were staring at them. Eragon swept at Altair's neck, and he dodged it and moved back, but Eragon moved his sword to his neck. Right before it hit, Altair ducked and jabbed at Eragon's midsection, but missed. Then, they both swung their swords at each other's heads and their blades met in mid-swing. They both pushed, but none could make a breakthrough.

"Yield!" yelled both at the same time. Sheathing their swords, they both clapped each other on the shoulder. Eragon walked towards Arya, while Altair joined his fellow Exiles.

"You dueled well. You and Altair will be great assets to the coming battle."

"I hope so."

Two hours into the day, the party began to move into the forest. After another half-dozen hours later, they arrived at Ellesmera. An elf sentry welcomed them.

"Welcome to Ellesmera, Eragon Finiarel, and Saphira Bjartskular. And welcome back, Arya svit-kona. I see you bring… friends?"

"Yes. They will help us in our fight against the Empire. They are all skilled warriors and magicians," replied Eragon.

The elf must have held him in high regard, for he did not question him further. Altair didn't fail to notice this.

The elf guided them into Ellesmera, and all the Exiles gasped in wonder at the elven city. Altair seemed very impressed, although he didn't express the loose-jawed amazement that the other Exiles did.

"The Elves seem to hold you as one of their highest," said Altair.

"Being a Rider does have perks," said Eragon, grinning.


	6. Chapter 6

The Exiles, Chapter VI

Revelation and Rider

(Those of you who are familiar with middle eastern histories know that the Hashashim were a crazed Islamic sect of assassins. Today they are a peaceful group, called the Nizariyya. But, they believed they could assassinate their way into heaven. The Hashashim, of which I am a descendent, smiles cruelly carved out their own empire in Persia. They are a solid basing of the warrior sect that Altair belongs to.)

Enough of the lecture, it's story time!

Eragon was lead to Tialdari hall by their elven guide, and when they arrived, Queen Islanzadi greeted them. Her eyes lingered on Altair for a moment, and only Arya and Eragon caught it.

"My dear rider, would you be so kind as to explain why there is a half elf standing in front of me."

"I was not aware, but I believe Arya was," murmured Eragon.

"Yes, Mother. It's true."

"Well. If I may ask, Halfling (she said this with some concealed contempt), who were your parents?"

"My good Queen; that is a matter I would talk in private about."

"And I will hear it. If you would excuse us…"

Islanzadi led Altair into a chamber separate from the one with the others.

"Who were they?"

"I am the illegitimate son of Morzan."

Islanzadi wasn't shocked, to his surprise.

"And your mother?" she asked sharply.

"I don't know. I was sent to the lands far east of the Varden after birth."

"Oh…. My…"

Islanzadi fainted.

Altair quickly held her before she hit the floor. He carried her into the chamber where Arya and Eragon were.

"You bast-"she was cut off by Altair

"Arya, I didn't hurt her."

"Do you expect me to believe that?" she hissed menacingly as she pulled out her sword.

"Arya….. Listen! She fainted because I told her of my parentage."

Arya didn't seem convinced, but she lowered her blade.

"Who are they?"

"I… am the illegitimate son of Morzan, first and last of the Forsworn, and of Queen Islanzadi. I am your half brother, Arya."

"M..Morzan?" spluttered Eragon.

"Yes… please, don't push me away because of my father…"

"Push you away? You're my brother" said Eragon, smiling weakly.

Arya swooned, but not before Eragon steadied her in his arms.

_You know, Eragon, they whole fainting thing is getting rather old._

Eragon could make out Saphira's voice in her head despite all the ensuing chaos.

_I agree. But having Arya in my arms isn't exactly bad. If you know what I mean._

_Men._

_OOOOOOOOOOOOO_

Aliya gazed out at the stars from her bed in the servant's quarters in Urubaen. Her mother had always told her that when you died, you would join other good people among the stars, but if you died sinful, you would go to a place filled with fire….

_Don't think about these things! _She told herself. _It won't help you, not with these dreams you've been having._

She recollected her wits and thought about the dreams. A haunting face, a young man with a sculpted face, a goatee and sideburns that went to his earlobes, and cropped hair seemed to torture her when she slept. He called out to her and as she went up to him, he changed. His hair became long, the sideburns became shorter, and the goatee was replaced by a beard. But worst was the voice. It turned from a gentle, yet powerful voice into one cruel and harsh, yet still retaining the power. She knew who the changed man was. It was Morzan. Yet, who was this stranger who became him?

Aliya's thoughts were interrupted when Murtagh came bursting into the room. Aliya had known him since childhood and they were good friends.

"Aliya, you need to get out of the city."

"Why?! What are you doing here, Murtagh?"

"No time for questions. Take Tornac from the stables and go to Surda."

"But why?" she said, gathering her clothes and packing them.

"Here, take this with you." He shoved three stones into her hands. One was green, one was purple, and the other was yellow.

"Dragon Eggs? I thought that the King only had one!"

"I found the other two in Vroengard."

Suddenly, a crack split the air as the purple stone broke open.


	7. Chapter 7

The Exiles Chapter VII

An Eventful Meeting.

3 months after chapter VI

Altair ran quickly over the dunes. The sand shifted beneath his boots, causing a small storm of dust following his steps. It seemed as if the desert had no end. He could feel every muscle inside him pumping, moving his body quickly over dunes, far quicker than a full human could run, but slower than a full elf. The sand shifted, noiselessly, beneath his boots. Suddenly, he stopped.

A dragon and a rider appeared on the horizon.

Altair pulled out his scimitar.

The dragon was purple, and its wings were a leathery violet. As far as he could tell, it was male.

The dragon seemed to be slowing down. Only one league away from him, it set down on the dunes. Altair could make out the rider from this distance. A half elf's eyes were better than a humans or a full elf's. It was most definitely a female. He started running again, his muscles pumping. He readied his scimitar with a few swings while running.

_Only half a league_.

The dragon roared and began lumbering towards him.

_A quarter... _

The rider dismounted and drew her own sword.

_Almost there..._

Altair let loose a terrible war cry.

"Stop!" she screamed as Altair neared.

Altair skidded to a halt.

"I swear, servant of Galbatorix, I will-"

"I am not a minion of that dog!" cried the girl.

"I will be the judge of that," he hissed, sending a probe into her mind. Surprisingly, he found decently strong walls surrounding her mind, as a city is defended by its walls.

Altair imagined a battering ram, and hit her defenses. They held, but were soon battered down. He quickly rummaged through her mind, looking at anything of interest. Soon, he reached her conversation with Murtagh, and the hatching of her dragon-

The dragon, Zenophon, roared, and Altair was distracted long enough for the girl to push him out of her mind. Altair stumbled backwards a few steps, as he felt the pain of being thrown out of another's mind. Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he grinned.

"I think we can trust you, Aliya," he said, mocking her name.

"I learned a few things from you, Altair," she muttered, unhappily.

"I must take you to the Elven city of Ellesmera. There, you must meet the rest of the royal family."

"And you intend to walk there?" she said.

"Considering I am half elf, I will run. Do not speak of things you do not know of."

"And do not keep secrets from me, Altair. I know how to probe another's mind while he probes mine. I know that you are the son of Morzan. I know of your half sister, Arya, your half brothers, Eragon and Murtagh, your mother, Queen Islanzadi. And I know of your past. I know of the battle at Malachor, and how thousands fell before your army, yet you lost many yourself."

Altair's shoulders slumped. "Do not speak to me of my past," he sighed wearily. "It is not a topic to bandy about with, nor is it something I am proud of. And I did not choose Morzan as my father. A father doesn't choose his son. You can ask Eragon that when we reach Ellesmera."

"I… am sorry."

Altair smiled. "Don't worry about it. I think I can trust you."

Aliya felt butterflies in her stomach.

_Aliya.._

_What?_

_Aliya! Stop gaping and look at him closely._

_Why?_

_Just do as I say._

Aliya gazed out at him, and gasped.

_It's him! From my dreams!_

_Yes. The brood of Morzan._

_Brrrr..._

_What?_

_Don't say brood. That word sends shivers down my spine._

"Hey! Rider!"

"What?"

"We must leave. Mount your dragon, and follow me." Altair took off running with surprising speed.

Aliya followed his instructions, and flew off in pursuit of him.

Altair grinned. There was something about this girl that made him feel strange in his stomach. Not friendship, but something… else. She was rather pretty. Nice, tanned skin, beautiful sea grey eyes, slender, athletic build, straight dark brown hair that fell to her shoulders and ended in a small curl.

_Well, well Altair! I didn't know that you thought so well of me!_

_Aliya!? Get the hell out of my thoughts!_

He pushed her out of his mind, and erected a wall. Unbeknownst to her, he blushed a deep maroon.

_3 days later..._

_Ellesmera..._

Altair led Aliya through the streets of Ellesmera. More often than not, a young elf would gape at her, and she would blush, and Altair would glow with jealousy. He led her to Tialdari Hall, where Queen Islanzadi was waiting. After exchange pleasantries, Altair nudged Aliya.

Taking a deep breath, she released, "My queen, I bring two dragon eggs."


	8. Chapter 8

The Exiles

Chapter VIII

Thanks to all my reviewers out there…. I know it took a while, but yall held tight.

Meetings

Note: this is just a fluffy addition which does not further the plot much.

Dawn broke over Ellesmera like water upon rocks. Sunlight shone through the myriad leaves of the trees. Altair paced back and forth between two hills, which were not more than fifty yards apart. Eventually, he stopped on the eastern hill, and sat on his knees and began his morning prayer. Altair was an extremely religious person, worshipping one god. Halfway through his prayer, Aliya walked up beside him and sat down next to him. He did not seem to acknowledge her presence, continuing his prayer. After five minutes, he finished and opened his eyes. He got up, stretched and sat back down, facing Aliya. Staring her right in the eyes, he asked, "Why do you come to me at this hour?"

"I woke early today. Can you blame me?"

"Yes, I can. If exile can teach you anything, one of the things it will teach you is to wake up when you want to. It helps us survive."

"Exile?"

"I was kicked out of my order for participating in a war that the ruling council in my order did not wish to participate in. This led to a split. One sect became two. Now, my land is consumed in a war between the two sects. My brother split off with the other sect."

"I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry for. It was his own decision," he whispered, almost to himself. "He was a good man, my brother. He had a sense of humor, and could make a joke out of any situation. You would have liked him."

Seeing his expression, Aliya wished she hadn't spoken. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"It's in the past, Aliya. I cannot blame you for anything."

There was an awkward moment of silence between them as Aliya pondered what he had just said.

"I suppose I should get going," mumbled Aliya.

She got up and straightened her clothes, but before she left she felt a hand on her shoulder. It was warm, and Aliya blushed at the contact.

"No, please, Aliya. I enjoy your company."

"As do I," she murmured as she sat back down. They both gazed at the sun, and Altair could feel Aliya's hand upon his.

_I wonder if it be too much... Should I?_

_I think you should._

She could hear the voice of Xenophon.

_You're prying._

_It's my business. You're my rider._

Aliya sighed, and placed her head on his shoulder. Altair looked at her in surprise, but relaxed almost immediately. He placed his arm around her waist, and she found herself drifting off, feeling as if no one could penetrate the barrier that Altair had created for her. Through her sleep, all she could think about was Altair's eyes.

After she fell asleep, Altair smiled and said to himself, "Looks like you didn't get enough sleep."


	9. Chapter 9

The Exiles

Chapter IX

Tenderness and Revelation

Altair, being as civilized as he was, swept the sleeping form of Aliya off her feet, and carried her to her room. Along the way, a few male elves shot him looks more deadly than that of a ticked off dragon. Inwardly, he just grinned. As he arrived in her room, he placed her on her bed, and sat down on the side. He closed his eyes, murmured a soft poem, and fell fast asleep.

OOOOOOOOOOLOLZOOOOOOROTFLOLOOOOOOOO

Eragon ambled through the forest. As he got through a grove of the trees, he arrived at a hot spring of water, and he gasped. Swimming in the pool was Arya. As she turned around, she gasped as she saw Eragon. Blushing deeply, Eragon turned away. After a minute, Arya touched his shoulder. Eragon spun around, and saw a smile plastered on her face.

"Did you like what you saw?"

"Ummm…"

"Or are you always inarticulate?" With that, she pulled him into a tender kiss.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOO

(Finally, some Murtagh)

Galbatorix punched Murtagh in the mouth. Murtagh spat a globule of blood out and faced his tormentor once again.

"Now, Murtagh. Repeat after me in the Ancient Language. I swear to capture Eragon no matter what difficulty I face. And I will not spare his dragon either. I will do this, or die trying."

After Murtagh completed the oath, Galbatorix spun around, and left the cell. Just before he left, Galbatorix uttered, "You know, it wasn't your father who threw the sword at your back. It was I."

With that, he left.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

HAHAHAH! Morzan is not the monster y'all thought!

Peace.


	10. Chapter 10

The Exiles Chapter X

Reunion

Three Months after Chapter IX

Eragon flew high above the Beors, near the peak of a huge, hollow mountain not unlike Farthen Dur, except this one was named Necrgrind, which meant the Gate of Corpses in the ancient language. It was named so because it was the site of the bloodiest battle between Galbatorix and his Forsworn against the Riders.

Eragon looked to his left and saw Aliya on her purple dragon, Xenophon, and Altair on his, Xerxes.

_Flashback…………….._

_Altair grasped the yellow egg, and it gave a violent shudder. Altair sharply drew his hand back and the egg cracked. A baby dragon reared its head, and cooed. Altair just grinned, and Aliya hugged him. Eragon clapped him on the shoulder, and laughed. Suddenly, Altair's black scimitar glowed, pulsated, then changed colors, from black to yellow._

_End Flashback……_

In the space of three months, Altair's dragon had grown to nearly half the size of Saphira. It was near unheard of, except for Galbatorix's first dragon, Zephyra, who grew even faster. Xerxes was a natural flier, cutting the wind like a peregrine falcon in a dive, and flying ten times faster. Saphira had taken a liking to Xerxes, but only as a friend. Xerxes reciprocated her feelings, but he showed no romantic interest in her either.

A howl blasted out of the mountains, and a red dragon spiraled from their left flank. Another huge, lumbering, red dragon shot out of the clouds to their right, seemingly faster than its size would allow. One of the riders was unpleasantly familiar.

"Murtagh!" roared Eragon in fury.

The other rider, however, did not seem familiar. His dragon was the larger, and it was easy to tell that the dragon was a male. The rider was also male, since no woman could stand six and a half feet tall. He was an expert, and wielded a crimson red blade. Zar'roc.

_I think it's Morzan. It's Morzan. Oh, gods._ Eragon's thoughts came quickly almost faster than he could process. He broadcasted his thoughts to the other four, riders and dragons. He quickly laid out a plan for them.

Eragon corkscrewed to the right, to meet the strange man, who looked uncannily like Morzan. Saphira and the red dragon met in a fury of talons, wings, fangs, and claws. They pushed at each other with their legs, blue on red, but the red dragon was too powerful for her. Eragon, without asking Saphira, jumped off of her and landed on the red dragon. He bellowed in fury and charged the red rider. Turning around, the rider positioned Zar'roc in front of him expertly. As Eragon's blue blade met the Rider's red, Eragon hooked his fingers under the helmet that blocked the rider's face. He ripped it off, and it went flying towards the ground. He saw the face that had eluded him for many years. He had a scar that went from above his eyebrow to his lips, giving him the impression of an impish smile. His face was gaunt, and his hair was in the exact fashion of Murtagh's.

"Hello, my son," hissed Morzan with a cruel smile.


End file.
